Photocredit Troy Hawkins@Cerulean Gyspsy https://ceruleangypsy.files.wordpress.com/2015/05/beard3.jpg
The Enemy Within Revisited Cast:
Gustav Myrthenbaum the Dilettante (Davy White)
Falco the Apothecary (Michael Morgan)
Hargrin the Troll Slayer (Kevin Bronakoski)
Bran the Amber Wizard (David Crapper)
Rutger Horstmann the Zealot (Chris Taylor)
From Gustav’s Personal Journal
On Death and Destruction
Why do we keep ending up here with its ill sited harbor and creaking lifts? Miserable folk so far from the light of Altorf as to be completely blind to the law and manners of Sigmar’s true born. Too many bad memories here. The disappearance of Badigan, the loss of enfeebled Smoff. The horrid Halfling Ripwise and his gruesome meat pies. This is the place where we lost the half sack of treasure to multi limbed thieves and my skin turned blue.
The Sisters, of course, are exempt from this judgement. They have shown me nothing but ill-placed kindness and a considerable mercy regarding past affliction and now with my current condition. Likewise should be said about my present companions. Strange that in this world of righteous fire and persecution such compassion would find a home.
At the time of this writing, we’ve just left this sore on Imperial civilization, Kemperbad, and departed on a barge, hopefully for the last time. Our group has been properly outfitted for what I expect is our meeting with Etelka. Hagrin had collected on some axes of the finest quality I have ever seen. Falco, equipped with a new blunderbuss that has not left his side is looking the warrior. Rutger, intent and fixed in purpose more so than normal. Only Bran returned with nothing new though I expect his mind has not stopped trying to anticipate Etelka’s next move. I remain unconvinced as to which of us is the quarry. At times, I feel like we’re being baited and at others it seems we have almost got her and her crew cornered. As for myself, I’ve picked up a flatbow and rope, should we see her or any of our past “friends” I’ll be sure they do not get away, again.
I truly hope I can trust these men to do what is necessary should the time come. Both with her and myself…
I am terribly tired with the nonsense of Etelka’s minions and their completely bizarre behavior. If I didn’t experience her own corrupting influence, I would be completely dismissive of these fools and their ridiculous efforts. Truly a troupe of clowns capering about on slack puppet strings. Just as we were boarding the boat one of her idiots made a threat to Castor and clipped some of my beard. If we’re lucky the toad-licker will wake up with a chickens foot instead of a hand.
Now that we are back on the river I have some time to reflect on my current condition. Since the time I was a young man, I have mused on how I might die and what glorious legacy I might be remembered for. Epic ballad, revolutionary style, a comprehensive study of the Bogen Wyrm. Certainly all the tales and songs sang for others were merely a preamble for my own magnificent triumphs. I would go so far as to say it was my primary and all-consuming preoccupation. How would I die? Now, in just the course of a week, I can think on almost nothing but how I will be destroyed. By blade or by hemp? Stones or fire… Hunted and destroyed, my name whispered to remind children to stay in at dark. Or perhaps, to bellowed out in the raving of the madman on the street reminding the people of the fall of Gustav, trapped by his very hubris.
I just spent an hour looking at my reflection trying to see “it” open. I blacked out when I caught a glimpse and came to with a nosebleed. Fire might be the key.
by Davy White (aka Gustav)
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